


Just Like Any Other Day

by Mnemos9



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 09.18, Destiel Anniversary, Destiel Day, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2327252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnemos9/pseuds/Mnemos9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the darkness, he reaches out to catch Cas’ cheek. His husband, officially. It’s kind of ridiculous, kind of no different than usual, and kind of the biggest deal ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like Any Other Day

He never thought he'd be doing this. Ever. It's beyond  _insane_ , it's downright suicidal. Out of every reckless maneuver, every tested alliance-out of _everything_  they've ever faced, this honestly has to be  _stupidest_ thing he's actually volunteered for.

That's what he thinks the week following **It**. The night before, he honestly considers bolting. Sometime in-between then and the morning, he has the worst panic-attack of his life. When the Sun comes up, he's amazed he can remember how to walk and talk. Let alone **the** **Walk**.

And despite the noose of his tie, the furnace of his suit, and the vertigo he gets when he looks out at the small gathering of their friends and family; he's remarkably well-composed.

Of course, that front begins to crumble nearly the instant he sees Cas. But he manages to keep his cool during the ceremony. He even remembers the vows, and he says them just like a normal person. The kind who actually knows what the fuck he’s doing. But yeah-the rings fit, the kiss is awesome, Sam, Charlie and a Taiwanese girl in a _really_ tight dress have everyone captivated with a dramatic reenactment of the _Buffy_ finale. Judging from the way she keeps standing so close and looking at Charlie as if she were a freakin’ unicorn, he’d say Mystery Girl likes her a lot. Everything goes without a hitch.

Then they have to sign the license. He glances over it and manages to pen a " **De** " before it registers. That’s when the other shoe drops. The letters melt together, the pen slips from between his fingers and the entire fucking world just dissolves. He loses balance, and Cas catches him before the ground does.

"What’s wrong?" It echoes from so far away, he’s not entirely sure that the question is rooted in the present.

Nothing-say nothing’s wrong. Except that he can't speak, because his mouth is a desert and his vision’s blurring behind the lifetimes they’ve lived in each other’s presence. He tries to speak, he really does, but words won’t do it. So he points.

"Dean, what-" He taps with the hand not clamped over the lower half of his face.

"The date?” Cas’ chin hinges over his shoulder. “I don't—“

"It's the 18th, Cas." He finally manages to rasp. "September the 18th."

"September..." He isn't sure whether Cas' voice  _does_ fade away, or if it's just drowned out by the tempo of his heart.

"I don't," he sniffs, like a kid with a cold. "I don't know how I could've..."

Forgotten-somehow when they were throwing this thing together, it just didn't come up. It was so sudden they just kept telling everyone "the Thursday after next", but no one fucking stopped to realize what  _date_ the Wedding was on.

He chuckles because it’s just _too much_ and finally looks up to see Cas distorted through the flood spilling over.

"Talk about killing two birds with one stone, huh?"

He doesn't have time to explain to Cas what he means by that, but he’s probably heard it before. He can’t clarify because suddenly, they're pressed together, and he's shaking and sobbing into Cas' new suit. It was expensive. They got these ones at an actual department store.

"It's alright. Sam, Charlie, and her…friend are, _Gangnam Styling_ , I believe she calls it."

He laughs again before the tears overpower him and deaden the Universe outside of Castiel’s orbit. He's aware of a warm hand grasping his, of being lead away. Wherever they are, it's cool, dark and quiet. Kind of like the Pit, only this place feels closer to sanctuary. Cloth dries his face and a voice tells him that it's alright. That everything will  _be_  alright.

He gasps "You can't know that."

"Maybe not,” a pair of soft lips find his in the gloom; gone before he can truly taste them. “but I’ll spend the rest of this life fighting to bring you Peace." The heat behind those words is almost terrifying. It burns hot as the fires of Hell did on  _this day_ so many years ago. The day when the angel hadn't taken "No" for an answer.

In the darkness, he reaches out to catch Cas’ cheek. His  _husband_ , officially. It’s kind of ridiculous, kind of no different than usual, and kind of the biggest deal **ever**.

"So it’s just like any other day?" Cas kisses his forehead and _again_ the instant is just that- _an instant_ before he’s left blind and alone. Fuck that. So he secures a hold behind Cas’ neck, and pulls _his_ angel to him. “Any other day-with me fightin’ just to hold onto you.”

"No, Dean.” His face is cupped by the hands that always reach back to him. How many more times can they be pulled away before they’re lost to him forever? “Many years ago today, I made a mistake.”

His breath catches-this is it, the other _other_ shoe. I’m sorry, you’re not worthy, _what_ was I thinking? Goodbye, Dean.

“Dean, my mistake was that I let you go.”

“Cas-that is _the_ corniest goddamn thing I have ever heard-”

Anxious, relieved, _enamored_ laughter sounds in his own ears. It’s a far cry from what he sounded like when they had first met. _Actually met_ , with the suffocation of burning, bloodied ashes pressing down on them like the pressure of the entire fucking Ocean.

 “-and I friggin’ love it.”

He repeats his vows without words, choosing the language of his touch over verbal communication. All the promises he’s made, he seals with the brush of his lips and fingertips. Maybe it doesn’t leave an impression as undeniable as Cas’ handprint. But from the way Castiel leans into him, Dean knows that his claim is _felt_ right down to the Core.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Destiel Day, Everyone! 
> 
> Couldn't help the schmoop, this Anniversary feeds off it.
> 
> Each comment is a beautiful little nuclear reactor. Put 'em together, you have the sun :3


End file.
